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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

HMS Belvidera - 27. Chapter 27

February, 1796

“I am to leave for Portsmouth in the morning,” Calvert said mournfully when they got into the carriage.

“Then we must make the most of our night,” Granger said, wondering how he was going to handle that with Caroline. Would she understand? Or would she be irate? “How is the Intrepid?”

“Excellent,” Calvert said with a grin. She was a lovely ship, and such a joy to command. “We spend most of our time on fleet errands, but we did manage to snap up a privateer.”

“A little extra prize money for your purse,” Granger teased. They talked of their exploits like naval officers were wont to do when on shore, until the carriage arrived at Portland Place. He led Calvert into his new house and led him upstairs to one of the guest rooms. While Calvert was settling in, Granger went to see Caroline.

“And how was court?” she asked cheerfully.

“The same as I remembered. I saw my father there and the Duke of Clarence as well. He has bidden me to call on him tomorrow,” Granger said. That pleased Caroline immensely, his contact with members of the Royal Family. “Francis Calvert was at the Admiralty. I have invited him to stay with us.”

He saw the conflict sear across her face, and felt guilty for it, for letting his other relationships interfere with theirs. “You will want to spend some time together,” she said tactfully.

“He is in town only for tonight, and then he is off, so if you would allow me some time with him this evening, I will be all yours until I sail. I have orders to leave in a fortnight,” Granger said, trying to be as diplomatic as possible.

Caroline actually smiled. “I think that is a most agreeable bargain. And now I must go and welcome Francis so he does not think I am secretly poisoning his tea.” They laughed together and walked down to his bedroom. Granger knocked, and they both entered.

Calvert bowed to Caroline in a courtly manner and kissed her hand. “Why Francis, how good to see you! I fear it is only for a short time?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said nervously. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“I hope you will treat this house as your own. I will be offended if I find you have returned to London and stayed elsewhere,” she said, surprising both Calvert and Granger.

“Yes ma’am,” he managed to say.

“I hope you gentlemen will excuse me for the evening. My current condition has left me feeling a bit ill, and I plan to rest,” she said. “You must show Francis the baths, George.”

“I think I will do that, dear,” Granger said, beaming happily at his understanding wife. Half an hour later found Granger and Calvert floating in the wonderfully warm fresh water of the baths.

“This is marvelous George!” Calvert said. “It is just like Antigua, only bigger!”

“My grandfather had it built for me,” Granger said. “How is he?”

“He is doing quite well,” Calvert said. “Mr. Pierce is doing quite well also.” They chuckled at the thought of his grandfather’s aide and lover. “That was really nice of Caroline.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve such a woman,” Granger said honestly. He moved over to Calvert and ran his fingers down his smooth chest with its well defined pectoral muscles and cute little nipples. Their mouths met, so much emotion and meaning flowing through their kiss, and then they merged, two men who knew each other well, and loved each other completely.

They spent the night together, reuniting, and Granger found himself satisfied but confused. He’d added a third man to the list of men he loved, Cavendish, and he found that all three of them fulfilled him in different ways. Travers was so masculine and dominant, a challenge to handle and hold onto. Calvert, so playful yet fragile and insecure, a source of joy yet also work, to ensure Granger didn’t upset his sensitive feelings. And Cavendish, the youngest, yet mature beyond his years. Cavendish was the brightest of the three, the most cultured, and Granger’s equal in social rank. Granger allowed his mind to secretly acknowledge that in the scale of social hierarchy, Cavendish probably topped him, but that was something George Granger would be loath to admit.

He put those feelings aside and just enjoyed the man he was with, and was reminded that the joy of reuniting with Calvert was followed by the agony of separation. Granger woke up early the next morning and bid him a tearful goodbye, then composed himself and headed to the dining room to break his fast.

“Thank you for letting us spend last night together,” Granger said to Caroline as they ate breakfast. He’d made love to Calvert all night and had hardly slept a wink. He was tired and drained as a result, and he still had to call on the Duke this afternoon.

“You are welcome,” she said simply.

Granger decided to change the subject. “I saw Davina at court yesterday. She is an interesting woman. She wants me to escort her to a party while I’m here in London.”

He saw a brief flash of anger in Caroline’s eyes. “She wants to take you to a party, get you to play cards and take all your money, and then seduce you afterward.”

“She is already cuckolding Freddie?” Granger asked, amazed and irritated.

“There are rumors, but I am trying not to believe them,” Caroline said. “I merely hope she is careful so if she becomes pregnant, there is no question as to the child’s paternity.”

Granger fought back the anger, the thought that such a woman could ultimately produce an heir without Granger blood, someone who would inherit Bridgemont. He changed the subject to calm himself down. “Is she as good a card player as her mother?” The Duchess of Devonshire was a renowned gambler.

“She is, or so I hear,” Caroline said.

“Well, I will avoid playing cards with her, and I will certainly not succumb to her charms. I made a promise to you, remember? No other women?” Granger hit her with his most charming smile.

“You most certainly did, and that is why I put up with the other men,” she said, only she said it cheerfully.

“Most men could only dream of a wife like you,” Granger said to her honestly.

She gazed at him lovingly, and then changed the subject. “I have been tending to our affairs and I hope they meet with your approval.”

“And what did you buy with all of my prize money?” Granger asked her, smiling.

“More land. I was able to expand our holdings around Brentwood, and buy a few tracts in the city as well. I have gotten some good counsel from your father and mine as well. There is an ironworks in the North Country that I funded with them, as well as some other industrial ventures. I have had copies of the accounts made for you to take with you,” she said.

“You mean you’re not going to lose it all playing cards with Davina?” he teased.

“No, I am positively bourgeois when it comes to money,” she joked back.

“I trust you completely dear,” he said. “But it will make for some interesting reading while I am gone.”

Granger took another bath to make sure he was fresh and clean for the Duke, and then headed over to pay his respects. This time when he arrived the servants were expecting him, and most solicitous. They led him upstairs to a private room, a bedroom. Granger sat on the bed nervously, hoping that the Duke did not make him wait too long. In fact, Granger was there a mere fifteen minutes before he appeared.

Granger rose immediately, and the Duke walked over and gently took his hands in his, then pulled Granger to him, their lips meeting, then their tongues. “I so look forward to these times when you return,” he said to Granger as he ended their kiss.

“As do I, Your Royal Highness,” Granger said as he pulled off his coat and kicked off his shoes. The two men removed their clothes with urgency, knowing that they had little time alone and would need to hurry to make the most of it. They lay on the bed, side by side facing each other, and explored each other’s bodies with their hands, and then their mouths. The Duke finally became inflamed with passion and gently but forcefully turned Granger around.

Granger expected to feel the Royal cock pushing into him, but instead he felt the Duke’s lips on his neck. “You are exquisite, amazing,” he cooed in Granger’s ear, then moved his mouth down Granger’s back to his ass. Granger had never expected the Duke to rim him, but that is exactly what he did, running his fingers gently down Granger’s crack, and then replacing them with his tongue. Granger worked hard to suppress his moans, and when the Duke moved back up to his neck and put the lubrication on his dick, he found Granger thrusting back, as eager to receive him as he was to enter Granger. They made slow, passionate love then, a pace almost maddening for Granger as he twitched his body against the Duke trying to amplify their pleasure.

Finally the Duke could last no longer. He picked up his pace and worked up to an orgasm quickly, much more quickly than Granger anticipated. After he came, the Duke kept his dick in Granger’s ass, lodging it against his prostate, while he reached around and stroked Granger to a climax as good as the one he’d just experienced.

“George, that was wonderful. All the people I have at my disposal, willing to do that with me and none of them come close to you,” The Duke said.

Granger felt himself blushing furiously, which just made the Duke chuckle. “Thank you sir. It is as good for me.”

The Duke smiled indulgently. “You are a good diplomat.”

Granger took his hand meaningfully, and forced him to make eye contact. “No sir, that is truly sincere.”

The Duke leaned in and kissed him. “Thank you, George. Perhaps we can do this again before you leave.”

“I am at Your Royal Highness’ disposal,” Granger said with a cheeky grin. They both dressed and Granger made his way out of Clarence House, making sure not to smile too widely as he did.

He had returned home and was enjoying a moment’s leisure, taking the opportunity to read all the latest newspapers, when Cheevers interrupted him. “Begging your pardon sir, but there is a gentleman here to see you.”

“Indeed?” Granger asked.

“Yes sir. A Captain Somers of the Royal Marines, sir.”

What would a captain of the marines be doing, calling on him? “Very well, please show him in.” Granger put down his papers and waited for this mysterious stranger to arrive. Cheevers returned directly, leading the marine into the room, and then tactfully left them alone.

Granger studied this new visitor with considerable interest. The man was about Granger’s height, and was probably a year or two older than Granger. He had dark blond hair, not a golden blond like Granger’s, a color that actually blended with his bright red uniform coat quite nicely. Staring at Granger were two bright blue eyes, set in a very handsome face. His face was long, and his nose was long as well, and quite sharp, so sharp it almost seemed like a razor’s edge. He had a slight overbite, but that just gave him a playful look and made him even more attractive. And then the clincher, what really enhanced his looks, was an adorable dimple in his chin. His uniform, a red coat with white breeches and waistcoat, was meticulously clean and orderly. Granger smiled to himself as he noticed the marine taking in his appearance as diligently as Granger was examining him.

“Welcome Captain,” Granger said.

“Thank you sir. I’m Captain Archibald Somers, sir. I’ve been appointed to your ship, to the Belvidera.” He took out his orders and handed them to Granger. “I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion, sir, but I thought that since you were in London, I would report to you first before joining the ship.”

“I’m glad you did,” Granger said. He extended his hand to the marine and when Somers shook it, he let his finger stray up into Granger’s wrist, running it across his membership mark, the mark of The Brotherhood. Thinking quickly, Granger did the same thing, and felt a bump where Somers had endured the branding as well.

“I am Sir Phillip’s cousin, sir,” he said. “He sends his regards and regrets, as he will be away from London for a while.”

“Please return his kind greeting,” Granger said. They couldn’t stop grinning at each other, and Granger found that despite his love-fest last night and his intense encounter with the Duke just a few hours earlier, he was having a hard time keeping his dick down. A glance at Somers’ trousers revealed a similar problem. Granger solved their dilemma by motioning him to sit down and offering him a glass of sherry. “What service have you seen?”

“I was promoted Captain last year, sir, and have been working with the Sea Fencibles since then,” he said. The Sea Fencibles were like a naval militia. “Before that I served on the Conqueror, and before that on the Illustrious.” There was something there that he was hiding.

“And why did you leave the Conqueror?” Granger asked. He saw Somers get very nervous, despite his attempts to hide it. He tried to ease his discomfort by smiling at him.

“It was a personal matter sir,” he said, hoping Granger would drop it.

“Captain, surely you understand by our marks that you can trust me with a personal matter?” Granger asked, acknowledging their membership in The Brotherhood.

“Yes sir, of course sir,” he said, but seemed reluctant to go further. “It’s just a bit embarrassing.”

“I will make you a deal, Captain. You tell me this thing that has you so nervous, and I will promise that it will stay between the two of us,” Granger said.

“Yes sir, thank you sir,” he said. “The Major in command had issues with me, sir. One was professional, the other personal.” Granger just stared at him, willing him to go on. “The professional issue stemmed from a difference in priorities. My philosophy, sir, is that the marines are fighting men first. The Major was more keen on appearances.”

“The previous marine commander on Belvidera shared your Major’s vision,” Granger observed. “I share yours.”

“Yes sir, that is excellent sir,” he said, smiling now.

“And what was the personal matter?” Granger asked.

He swallowed hard. “I interrupted the Major when he was having an intimate encounter with one of his orderlies, sir.”

“So you reported him?” Granger asked gently. Why else would this be an issue?

“No sir, not at all sir, I would never have done that sir,” he said. “It’s not my place. But after that, he got angry with me, and seemed to assume that I would report him.”

“And what happened?” Granger asked.

He really swallowed hard. “He drank a bit too much one night and sent for me sir.”

“He wanted you to bugger him?” Granger prompted.

“Yes sir,” he said. “Only, well, I’m gifted there sir, so when he found that out he changed his mind, and after that he seemed to hate me more than ever. It got bad enough that I requested a transfer ashore, claiming it was a medical necessity.” Granger had to refrain from letting his mind think about that too much, about having this handsome marine with a huge cock aboard his ship.

“So you would have buggered him?” Granger asked, but he smiled to show Somers he was only teasing.

“We’d been at sea for quite a while, sir,” Somers said, smiling shyly back at him. Granger laughed then, and Somers joined him, more from relief than from mirth.

“I will be glad to have you aboard Belvidera, Captain. I am sorry to pry into such personal matters, but I wanted to make sure there were no problems that would endanger the ship. I hope you will not hold it against me.”

“No sir, not at all, sir. Thank you sir,” Somers said, grinning.

“So tell me how you plan to shape up my marines?” Granger asked.

“There’s a lot of potential to use the tops in battle, sir,” he said. “Many officers don’t think it’s wise, what with having powder and shot up with the sails, but I think that with good training and the right equipment, it could be useful.”

That made sense. Granger knew that some captains groused about it, about having marines in the tops shooting down at the enemy or tossing grenades into their hold. Even Nelson held firm against it. As Somers said, they were convinced a spark from a musket or the fuse of a grenade would ignite a sail. The rigging was quite combustible. Yet the advantages were huge, and may warrant the risk. “I can see the benefits, if there were safeguards against fire. What kind of equipment would you need?”

“I’d fancy a squad of riflemen, sir. Probably ten men who were good shots. But we’d need at least twenty rifled muskets for that, and those aren’t cheap,” he said. “In addition, I’d like a grenadier at each masthead. That wouldn’t require any additional equipment at all.”

“I’d have no objection to funding the purchase of rifles myself. Can we get them here in London?” Granger asked.

“Yes sir!” he said, positively beaming.

“Where are you staying while you’re in London?” Granger asked.

“I haven’t set up rooms yet, sir,” Somers said.

“Then I propose that you stay here, and then tomorrow we can go round and see if we can’t procure these rifles you want,” Granger said.

“I wouldn’t want to impose, sir,” Somers said.

“Nonsense,” Granger said. “And maybe later, I can show you the best feature this house has to offer.”

“I suspect I’m looking at the best feature this house has to offer right now, sir,” Somers said, now unable to conceal the lust in his eyes. Granger swallowed hard. Suddenly Somers had shed his respectful demeanor and let out his true personality, exposed himself for the wolf that he was. It was more erotic than Granger could have imagined.

“I should hope I don’t disappoint you,” Granger said shyly. “Let me show you to your room, and then I will introduce you to my wife.” He summoned Cheevers, who led them up to a different guest suite, and then left them there.

Somers didn’t wait a moment. He moved forward and pulled Granger into his arms. Granger felt Somers’ hand behind his head, pulling him in, forcing them together, and yielded to his advances. He had been with men who liked to take charge before this, but none with the urgency or command that Somers showed. He broke off their kiss and pushed Granger to his knees, pulling down his trousers to expose a very thick cock, almost exactly like his cousin’s. Granger took him into his mouth and worked him with a skill Somers appreciated, if his moans were any indication.

Then he really surprised Granger. He turned away and dropped his own trousers, exposing his ass as he bent forward. “Please, sir,” he said. Now he had given up his dominance completely. Granger lubed his hard cock and pushed in, expecting to meet resistance but finding none. He slid in smoothly, and it was heaven. Somers’ tight ass seemed to massage his dick as Granger fucked him, as if its sole purpose was to milk him dry. Granger varied his pace, because even though he’d been completely drained, he couldn’t last long with this kind of stimulation. He felt his balls rising.

“I’m going to cum,” he murmured urgently into Somers’ ear. That just urged the marine on more, and Granger felt his whole body explode as he shot his load in Somers’ sweet ass. He pulled out and stopped Somers, who had grabbed his own cock to jerk himself to an orgasm, and pushed him back onto the bed. Granger lowered his mouth onto Somers’ cock, taking his swollen dick as deep into his throat as he could, and then drove two of his fingers into Somers’ ass. He found that spot that drove men wild and worked it, all the while keeping Somers’ massive cock lodged in the back of his throat. Granger began to make swallowing motions, and that sent Somers over the edge. He was rewarded by getting something real to swallow: Somers’ load. Granger used his mouth and his fingers to milk the young marine, working him until he had drained his essence.

He sat up and licked his lips, and instead of a smile, he saw a look of amazement on Somers’ face. “That was the most amazing blow job I’ve ever had.”

Granger laughed, and once he started he couldn’t stop. Somers joined him, and they laughed until it became a bit strange, then Granger straightened himself up and left Somers alone to put his appearance to rights.


 

“Boat ahoy!” came the hail from the ship.

Belvidera!” Jeffers called back. Granger studied his command as they approached her. In a few short days, Roberts had done much to improve her appearance. The large streaks along her side where her paint had been washed off by the rough seas were gone, painted over in an expert fashion. The rigging was as perfect as if it had just been set up, and the brass work and gold leaf gleamed in the weak sunlight.

He glanced sideways at Somers, who managed to leer at him using only his eyes. The past few days he’d found himself challenged to satisfy both Caroline and this over-sexed marine, but he’d shown Somers that he was as good at taking it as he was at dishing it out. Granger thought about Somers and found himself almost giddy, not just because the man was devastatingly handsome and a truly gifted lover, but because he was just what Granger wanted and needed. He liked Somers, but he wasn’t developing romantic feelings for him. He just enjoyed their sexual chemistry, much as he would enjoy a good fencing partner.

The boat hooked on to Belvidera’s side and Granger hauled himself aboard as the bosun’s whistles pealed, saluting the quarterdeck to acknowledge the honors the ship bestowed on him. He heard a thump as Somers landed on the deck after him.

“Welcome back, sir,” Roberts said pleasantly.

“Thank you, Mr. Roberts,” Granger replied back cheerfully, genuinely glad to be back on board and genuinely glad to see Roberts. “This is Captain Somers. He’s been sent to assume command of the marines.”

“Welcome aboard,” Roberts said to Somers, whose simple “Thank you, sir,” in response seemed friendly enough. “Mr. Gatling, please show Captain Somers to his cabin.”

“Aye aye sir,” the lad said. Granger almost rolled his eyes at Somers’ attempts not to lust after Gatling. He’d matured into a handsome young lad, with his dark hair and friendly eyes. Granger watched Somers note how Gatling’s waistcoat was a bit small for him, riding up to expose his cute, round ass.

“I’d like to see you in my cabin, Mr. Roberts,” Granger said officially.

“Aye aye sir,” Roberts said, and followed him below. The cabin smelled musty from the carpet that hadn’t quite dried after their severe storm. The new one Granger had purchased yesterday hadn’t arrived yet.

“We’ll be sailing in ten days to rendezvous with a convoy of supply ships and reinforcements off Ushant,” Granger said.

“Sir John will be most happy to see them, sir,” Roberts observed. Everyone knew about the shortages in the fleet.

“I suspect you’re right. I want to make sure we have ample stores on board. Tell Mr. Andrews to provide well for the men, since there won’t be much time for leave, even for those who can be trusted.”

“He’s already working on that, sir,” Roberts said. “I suspect you’ll find a considerable bill in that stack of papers.” He gestured at Granger’s desk.

Granger laughed. “He wouldn’t forget that, that much is certain. Captain Somers is going to drill our marines for actions in the tops. I wanted you to know that he has my blessing to do so. They’ll be delivering a shipment of rifled muskets to his attention today or tomorrow.”

“Aye aye sir,” he said, but seemed nervous. “Will it be safe to have combustibles in the tops, sir?”

“Captain Somers seems to think it can be, so we will give him a chance to show us. If he is right, it may make a big difference the next time we go into action. I think the ability to keep the enemy’s helm clear is worth a little risk, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Roberts said, seemingly convinced.

“Can you spare Mr. Gatling for a few days?” Granger asked.

“Yes sir, of course sir,” Roberts said.

“I think he could use some new uniforms,” Granger said.

“Aye sir. I allowed the wives to come aboard, as he was becoming a bit too tempting for the men,” Roberts joked.

“Then we shall try and protect his virginity,” Granger joked back.

“I’m not sure it’s still intact for us to protect, sir,” Roberts said, grinning until he saw the shocked look on Granger’s face.

“Indeed?” Granger asked.

“There were some rumors that he was a randy lad before his promotion sir,” Roberts said. Granger wanted to ask him how he knew that, but that wasn’t consonant with the dignity of the captain.

“Well we will try and protect him from further de-flowering, either from himself or from others,” Granger joked awkwardly. “I will be returning to London shortly. I will leave preparing the ship in your capable hands.”

“Aye aye sir,” he said. Granger scooped up the papers and letters on his desk and put them in his attaché case.

“Pass the word for Mr. Gatling!” He said to the marine outside his cabin door.

He heard the marine’s “aye aye sir” followed by a bellow for Gatling. The young man arrived shortly after that, as was fit and proper for a midshipman when summoned by his captain.

“You sent for me sir?” he asked, his eyes full of terror at having a personal interview with his captain.

“I want you to accompany me into town. You need some new uniforms,” Granger said.

The boy swallowed nervously. “Yes sir, thank you sir, but I’m not sure I can afford them.”

Granger felt bad for him, and knew how tough it was for young naval officers without outside means. Pay scales were horrible, and it was only the promise of prize money which made the system bearable. The cost of uniforms and equipment could cost him six months wages at least. “Then you must let me buy them for you as a gift to congratulate you on your promotion.”

“I don’t know what to say, sir,” he said.

“Then say naught, Mr. Gatling. You may repay me by excelling in the performance of your duties,” Granger said. He saw the hero worship in the young man’s eyes, and remembered when he’d felt that way about his own Captain not so many years ago. The young midshipman preceded him into his gig and they began the long boat ride back to London and Portland Place.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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